


Vera

by OuyangDan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 06:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17523584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OuyangDan/pseuds/OuyangDan
Summary: A fic I did for this year's January Blues fic exchange at Warden's Vigil about Finn and Vera.





	Vera

An only child of noble parents, Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant, Esquire often found himself lonely. He longed for someone to play with between the long tutoring sessions, and one day, she appeared. The little wisp, an intriguing shade of green who bobbed and dipped about, running into things clumsily at first, and finally hovering just out of reach, as if she were shy. She seemed as curious about him as he was about her, and for those first weeks they simply observed one another, afraid to get too close lest the other spook and disappeared.  
  
Until one day, Finn's Nan had been dismissed for the day, and his mother, Florence left him to finish his tea alone. The luminous little orb swept down from wherever it was she'd hidden until she floated just above his shoulder. When he did no more than merely look at her, she flitted close enough to tickle his cheek, and then zipped out of his reach before he could swat her out of the air. Finn laughed, returning to his tea, and the whole game started anew.  
  
On her third attempt, Finn leapt from his chair, the fabric of his trousers making a soft swishing sound as he scampered after her. She bobbed and wove her way around, Finn following in her wake, laughter burbling from deep in his belly as he leapt and hopped, crawled under things and over things trying to catch her in his hands like a lightning bug. But when he jumped upon the little nursery table where he'd taken his tea, it toppled under his weight, sending the whole of the spread to the floor with a crash.  
  
"What has gotten into you, Florian?" His mother stared, shock and awe on her still youthful face as she took in the mess.  
  
"I'm playing with my friend!" he explained with a cheer, his face shining like the sun and cheeks kissed with the flush of exertion.  
  
The confusion only remained on Mother's face the briefest of moments, eyes searching the room around them, before she smiled that smile she saved just for her pride and joy. "Of course you are. Why don't we go down to Father's library and find you a book while this is cleaned up?" She took him by the hand and led him out of the room. He'd never been allowed in father's library before!  
  
"What's your friend's name?" Mother asked, her voice singsong with curiosity reserved for querying the very young.  
  
He had to think about that, giving it very serious thought, his youth-rounded face scrunched up. His new friend needed a very beautiful name. The most beautiful name in all the world. "Vera," he announced proudly.  
  


#

  
Vera became a constant companion over the next couple of years. During the not infrequent times which Finn was left alone to his own devices, she would come to him. Trilling in a tiny, merry way she would draw his attention up from his book, provoking him to follow her in chase, or slowly explore places and things he shouldn't in the soft shine of her light.  
  
Tonight she hovered at his shoulder as he huddled beneath the rich quilt on his bed, reading much later into the night than he knew he ought to be.  
  
"Whoever wrote this," he explained, pointing to a rather dry paragraph on the nuances of Dwarven linguistics, "was completely uninspired." His precociousness drew more than a few raised eyebrows but it was a trait his mother thrived on nurturing. "The trends themselves, though, are fascinating."  
  
Vera hummed in that almost inaudible thrum. How much she ever understood of his musings, he did not know, but she was never too busy to pay attention to what he said.  
  
"There's this odd crossover where there is indisputable elven influence, but that makes no sense." He shook his head, fully knowing that elves did not and would not live underground. Even he, his family having little contact with elves beyond the occasional servant, knew very little about them as a people.  
  
Any further discussion on theories would need to wait, as it became viscerally clear he was hungry. The growl of his stomach was enough to send Vera flying out from under the quilt, her soft chitter excited and encouraging. She flitted, this way and that, bouncing off the window and back to him in a flash. Then, as she so often did, she began to zip away, not waiting to see if he followed.  
  
Of course he did.  
  
"Where are you going?" he hissed after her. "If Mother and Father find me out of bed I'll be in so much trouble!"  
  
If she heard him, she gave no indication, instead dipping down a small servant's passageway that kept them from having to pass his parents' room. What choice did he have but to follow?  
  
"Can you slow down?" he called in a harsh whisper. "You know I don't run a lot." Running was very much not allowed indoors, and who wanted to be outdoors? With all the bugs and weather?  
  
Once again, Vera paid no heed, though the more determined he became to keep up, the faster he seemed to feel his legs pumping. They did not slow until they'd wound through the small passage and to the kitchens. She zipped around the room in looping circles, slowing tightening until she hovered over an earthen jar where the nan kept cookies.  
  
"What a cliche," he laughed. "I've read enough stories to know that climbing after cookies is a sure way to get into trouble, you know."  
  
Vera did not like his matter-of-fact attitude, or rather chose to take that opportunity to bounce off of various objects--a chair, a worktable, the bench, and finally the shelves high up where the crockery sat.  
  
"You're right," he agreed as if Vera had swayed him with a very compelling argument. "I am hungry, and I don't have to actually light anything to have cookies." He didn't know much at all about starting fires, so the ovens and stove were out.  
  
He followed her lead, climbing from floor to chair to table and further, disheartened when the shelf turned out to be just out of his reach. Tipping up on his bare toes--Feet on the counter! Ew! Their food was made there, after all--he couldn't help but wonder if his slippers would have given him enough extra height to reach. He stretched and stretched before deciding to use an overturned pot to give him the boost he couldn't get. The pot slipped under his uneven weight, and down he went, taking the pot crashing with him, spilling into the chair, and wiping a whole rack of utensils with him. Finn shrieked in terror, his hands reaching out as a ball of energy left his hands and hit the earthenware jar. It wobbled and tumbled to the ground, where it exploded in a shower of crockery shards and cookie crumbs.  
  
By the time the cook arrived in the kitchen, he was well and truly cut up and scared, smoke spiraling off the remains of the cookies. When she saw the small wisp, she screamed out for the guards, one of who ran to fetch Magistrate Aldebrant.  
  
Finn didn't understand what happened until the templars arrived in the morning, before the sun was even up. Magic. He'd done magic. But how? Mother and father both asked the same as they wept at the loss of their son, and Finn sobbed quietly, afraid for the first time of the yet unknown.  
  
Vera appeared in his room once more, trilling sadly as she bobbed near him as if to bring comfort.  
  
"Go away," he snapped. "This is your fault." When she didn't go right away, he threw a pillow with his unrestrained hand. "I said go!"  
  
She went, and Finn did not see Vera again for a very long time.  
  


#

  
Overall, Finn liked life in the Circle. He never had to wonder where to go or what to do, because there were always plenty of people handy to tell him! He had access to more books than he could ever hope to read, and Florence and Kingston wrote often to tell him just how proud they were of his talents for healing. The Circle was safe, predictable, until it wasn't.  
  
"I've a gift for you, Enchanter Florian." Senior Enchanter Uldred set a thick book at Finn's elbow, the binding worn the way that could not be prevented from obvious love and use.  
  
"Actually," he corrected, dark brown eyes shining with excitement, "it's Finn now, Senior Enchanter."  
  
"Finn?" Uldred didn't sit. He seldom did. Usually he preferred to stand, close to the tables so that others had to look up at him rather than speak face to face. "How clever."  
  
"The older mage in my healing practicals started calling me that," he chattered away as he turned the ancient pages, having great care with where he touched them. "Made the others stop calling me Flora." He shrugged his bony shoulders beneath his heavy but immaculately clean robes. "Then he offered to teach me to swim, but even if the templars let me, I shudder to think what might be living in that lake."  
  
"Oh? Is he back?"  
  
"And gone again." Finn's words drifted off and away, no longer concerned with who was or was not here, the whole of his attention claimed by the script in front of him. "Where did you find this?" Such a treasure, a rare account of various consorts in the Tevinter Imperium. No better source to validate history than an original one from the pen of those who lived it. One in particular caught his attention--Eleni Zinovia. Favored by Archon Valerius.  
  
"Let's say a friend of a friend." Weird, but inconsequential. The where didn't matter so much as the what. "Your enthusiasm for the Imperium's history swayed me." There was a moment of quiet that passed without Finn's notice. "Perhaps we can discuss some of it another time."  
  
"Sure." He didn't say much more until he remembered his manners and called out the Uldred's back. "Oh! Thank you!"  
  
He pored over the tome until late in the day, the light from the slotted, high windows dimming and forcing him to lean closer until his nose nearly (but not quite!) touched the page. Without his immediate notice, a soft illumination shone over the text and Finn automatically sat back to a more relaxed position. Until he heard a soft, familiar trill.  
  
He blinked up, eyes adjusting to the distance between him and the wisp, bobbing about in front of him. "Vera?" No! It couldn't be. "I thought you were gone forever!" Catching himself, Finn dropped his voice to a whisper. "I was so mean to you."  
  
If she held any resentment over his treatment, it remained in the past with his harsh words. Instead, she spun about, circling his head before whizzing off towards a doorway to a set of forbidden stairs. Which led to the basement.  
  
"I can't go down there," he insisted with a shake of his head and a flopping of his auburn hair.  
  
Vera didn't argue. She never had. Always she went about her way, and left the choice to follow to Finn.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Vera passed easily through the thick door, despite the many layers of enchantments upon it, and did not return that night.  
  
It took two more nights for Finn to decide to follow. This time when Vera passed through the door, he heard the grind and clank of the mechanism on the heavy door, a space of an inch revealing the darkness behind it. "Vera," he hissed, abandoning his books, neatly laid out on the table (never stacked!) and rushing to the door. "You can't leave it open! They'll think I did--" He cut off, the sight of the stairs, dirty and unused, detritus of neglect upon them as they wound down, down, ever down. His heart hammered with the thrill of what might be down there. What knowledge might be gained, however taboo. Vera flitted past his ear, trilling happily as she swept down the stairs.  
  
Finn followed.  
  
"Finn. I have waited for you to visit me." He pulled up short just outside the door to the small chamber, looking around in an attempt to find the source of the voice.  
  
"Who?" he asked, dumbly. "Or, rather, why?"  
  
"You've read my story," the soft, inviting voice explained.  
  
"I read a lot of stories." His brow arched to a point, his need to know what was going on winning out over any fear of retribution. "Where are you?"  
  
"Over here. Come closer. We have much to discuss."  
  
He walked slowly into the little chamber, cluttered with items beyond counting. "Are you hiding behind the statue?"  
  
"No, Finn. I am the statue."  
  
Just as he was about to argue how preposterous that was, Vera swooped past him and began circling the statue. "How?"  
  
"I was imprisoned here by Archon Velerius because he did not like my warnings."  
  
"Eleni Zinovia."  
  
"Yes," she answered in a way that was far more dreamy than he imagined a statue should sound. Not that he thought upon what a statue would sound like very often, but it had come to his mind. "Would you like to hear my warnings?"  
  
He swallowed. "Yes."  
  
"Beware the one who would elevate you in his rise."  
  
Finn blinked in confusion. "I don't understand."  
  
"You will. When you are called to the chamber, you must come to me, instead."  
  


#

  
Nearly a year passed before the argument broke out between First Enchanter Irving and Senior Enchanter Uldred. When the yelling spilled from the meeting room Finn saw Vera hovering at the door to the basement. This time he did not hesitate to follow.  
  


#

  
"If you move your Queen to F2 I will simply leave mine back on F7. You cannot win."  
  
Finn frowned at the board on the crate in front of them. "How did you--"  
  
"I am cursed with prophecy, Finn."  
  
"Right!" Funny he should forget that. He sighed and reset the pieces for both of them. His eyes shot up to meet Elini's vacant, stone face. "Wait. Does that mean you let me win sometimes?"  
  
"It is no fun always beating you. Why would you ever come back?"  
  
"Because you saved my life? Because you're a talking statue?" There were any number of reasons. "Because I feel safer here than anywhere else."  
  
"I will miss you when you go, Finn."  
  
What? "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Elini said no more, and no amount of prodding got her to answer his questions about what that meant. Finn packed up the chess pieces all the same, and tucked them into the little hidey hole where they remained undiscovered by anyone else. He left the basement and returned to the oppressive quiet which hung over the Tower since the Hero had put a stop to Uldred's rebellion.  
  
Part of Finn was ashamed he'd hidden, rather than fight. His healing skills might have saved more than a few of his peers. Instead he'd huddled behind Elini as abominations ripped through floor after floor, taking the lives of mage and templar alike. Only the statue seemed not to judge him. He withdrew, further isolating himself from the others, feeling for the first time a chasm of separation, falling into the worlds where books could take him. Only in the Fade did he entertain thoughts of travel. Of seeing big, powerful dragons or finding an Eluvian. Of going on an adventure. Of meeting someone who (gulp) liked his company enough to offer him a kiss like he read in the stories.  
  
He didn't even visit Elini.  
  
Vera appeared once more that night, in his quarters as he read a very dry primer on herb lore. She darted about, zipping close and away again.  
  
"No, Vera. Not tonight. I don't feel like going out." He pulled his ghastly hat down tight over his head and turned so his back was to her.  
  


#

  
Vera did not give up. She appeared a few times a week, sometimes in the middle of the day, sometimes late at night when he would be trying to sleep. Today was the former. She lapped his head, flitting this way and that before passing through his door and back again before repeating the whole sequence.  
  
"If I follow you, will you leave me alone?" he demanded.  
  
Vera answered by passing through the door and back again.  
  
Finn sighed before carefully putting his books back onto his shelf--the largest piece of furniture in the tiny room--and followed to the door. "Fine. But let's be quick about it. I have to get through these scrolls. I promised the First Enchanter I'd... oh never mind." He huffed once more and followed Vera as she skipped along to the library. "I've been here before," he reminded her, rather petulantly.  
  
"Psst. You. Hound. You think you could sneak up on that mage over there?"  
  
A dog? Here? In the Tower? But that wasn't the thing which gripped his attention and refused to let go. It was the voice which threatened to stir up trouble, and maybe even encourage the dog to drool on the rug. Ew! He ventured closer, intent on stopping the filthy creature from doing whatever the voice was putting him up to.  
  
He pulled up short when the dog in question growled softly, his heart speeding away and tempting him to go the other way.  
  
"Warden, your dog is lecturing me again."  
  
"Can you two stop fighting and help me find what we're looking for?" The Warden? He tiptoed around the stack and peered at the two women. And their gross, filthy, slobbery dog who was getting mud all over! "The witch has who knows how long a start on us and we need to find the Eluvian before she does. Whatever it is."  
  
"It means--"  
  
"Mirror," Finn interrupted, stepping into full view now and gasping in horror. "Be careful with that book! It's priceless!"  
  
The Dalish warrior, her slim face pulled in a sharp frown stepped back away from the Warden, her hands up in placation. "Great. We all know what it says."  
  
The Warden looked up at him, as if he'd just caught her about to tear the page from the helpless tome. "So, do you know what an Eluvian is?"  
  
Finn's eyes flitted to where Vera hovered, just out of sight of the pair of women (though not their dog who trotted after her). She danced in front of the unused door to the basement, luring the dog to paw at it. "Sort of." His eyes slid to the door once more, no longer seeing Vera. "I know someone who does. Let me see if Vera--" He stopped, his mind spinning to recover. "That's my staff, I mean." He thumbed over his shoulder. "Oh, look! She's right here! I guess we can go!"


End file.
